Julie Garwood - Come the Spring

"What's going to happen to them? " "The boys? " The sheriff looked

bleak, disheartened. "My Josey and me offered to take them all, but

the relatives back east said they'd give them a home. I think they're

gonna farm them out between them. That doesn't seem right to me.

Brothers ought to stay together.

" Cole agreed with a pensive nod.

"I got my own opinion why they killed Luke's wife. Want to hear it? "

"Sure."

"I think they were sending folks a message." His voice dropped to a

whisper of confidentiality as he continued. "Word gets around fast,

and anyone who might see something or hear something in the future is

gonna think long and hard before stepping forward.

Witnesses don't survive.

That's the message."

"They're bound to make a mistake one of these days."

"Son, that's what everyone is hoping will happen. I'm praying it

happens soon, cause a lot of good people have died, and not just men,

but women and children too. Those men are gonna burn in hell for what

they've done."

"They've killed children? " "I heard about one little girl that got

killed. She was in the bank with her mama. Of course it could just be

speculation. I asked Ryan about it, but he got a real strange look in

his eyes and went out the door without answering me, so I don't know if

it's true or not. The marshal sure has his hands full, " he concluded

with a shake of his head.

"Are you thinking about heading back to your ranch? " "Right now I'm

headed for Texas to bring some steers back. The regional office better

be on the way orţ" Norton wouldn't let him finish. "I got a little

favor to ask you." He put his hand up to ward off any interruption and

hastily added, "I know I don't have the right, since I went and knocked

you over the head.

Still, I'm compelled to ask."

"What is it you want? " "Hold on to your badge until tomorrow before

you make up your mind.

It's already going on dusk, so you don't have to wait long. In the

morning, if you're still determined to give the badge back, then I'll

be happy to tell you the fastest way to get to the regional office.

With that fancy compass, you won't have any trouble finding it. Now,

don't shake your head at me. At least consider it, and while you're at

it, answer another question for me."

"What? " Cole asked with a bit more surliness than he intended.

"Why do you suppose Ryan went and shoved you the way he did before he

took off? " "Frustration, " Cole answered.

The sheriff grinned like a big cat sitting in a tub of cream. "You

wanted to hit him, didn't you? I saw you make a fist, andţyes, son, I

didţand I saw something else happening too, but never you mind about

that. You showed considerable restraint, " he added. "And Marshal

Ryan did apologizeţI heard it with my own earsţbut now I'm wondering to

myself if he was apologizing for shoving you or maybe something else

he'd done." Before Cole could ask him to explain what he was

chattering on about, the sheriff pushed the topic around to the badge

again.

"Will you stay on tonight? I'll treat you and Josey to supper at

Frieda's fancy restaurant, and if you ride out now, you won't get far

before dark hits. If I were you, I'd want to spend one more night

sleeping between clean sheets before I headed out on such a long

trip.

Come morning, I'll give you the directions you're wanting and you can

be on your way lickety-split. Course you'll probably want to go on

over to Rockford Falls first. It ain't too far away from here." Cole

raised an eyebrow. "Why would I want to go to Rockford Falls? "

Norton chuckled. "To get your compass back." The town of Rockford

Falls was reeling with shock. In the past two days, they had lost

eight of their finest citizens and one who wasn't quite so fine but who

mattered to all of them just the same.

Influenza was responsible for two deaths. The epidemic had been

gathering strength during the past week, striking down half the

population. The old and the young were hit hardest, Adelaide Westcott,

a spry seventy-eight-year-old spinster who still had all of her own

teeth and who never had a cranky word to say about anyone, and sweet

little eight-month-old Tobias Dollen, who had inherited his father's

big ears and his mother's smile, both died within an hour of one

another of what Doc Lawrence called complications.

The town mourned the loss, and those who could get out of bed attended

the funerals, while those who couldn't leave their chamber pots for

more than five-minute intervals prayed for their souls at home.

Adelaide and Tobias were buried on Wednesday morning in the cemetery

above Sleepy Creek Meadow. That afternoon, six men were brutally

murdered during a robbery at the bank. The seventh man to die and the

last to be noticed was Bowlegged Billie Buckshot, the town drunk, who,

it was speculated, was on his way from his dilapidated shack on the

outskirts of town to the Rockford Saloon to fetch his breakfast.

Billie was a creature of habit. He always started his day around three

or four in the afternoon, and he always cut through the alley between

the bank and the general store, thereby shortening his travel by two

full streets. Because he was found cradling his rusty gun in his arms,

it was assumed by Sheriff Sloan that he had had the misfortune to run

into the gang as they were pouring out of the bank's rear exit. It was

also assumed that the poor man never stood a chance.

Every one knew that until he had his first wake-up drink of the day,

his hands shook like an empty porch swing in a windstorm. Six hours

was a long time to go without whiskey when your body craved it the way

Billie's did. He wasn't shot like the others, though. A knife had

been used on him, and judging from the number of stab wounds on his

face and neck, whoever had done it had thoroughly enjoyed his work.

As luck would have it, no one heard the gunshots or saw the robbers

leaving the bank, perhaps because more than half the town was home in

bed. Folks who wanted to get out for some fresh air waited until the

sun was easing down to do so. Those few strolling down the boardwalk

certainly noticed Billie curled up like a mangy old dog in the alley,

but none of them gave him a second glance. It was a sight everyone was

used to seeing. They figured the town drunk had simply passed out

again.

Yet another precious hour passed that could have been used tracking the

killers. Heavy clouds moved in above the town and rumbles of thunder

were heard gathering in the distance. Emmeline MacCorkle, still weak

and gray-faced from influenza, was nagged by her mother to accompany

her to the bank to find out why Sherman MacCorkle thought he could be

late for supper. Sherman's wife was in a snit. She caused quite a

commotion banging on the front door of the bank, drawing curious

glances, and when it wasn't promptly answered, she dragged her daughter

around to the back door. Neither Emmeline nor her mother looked down

at the curled-up drunk. Their disdain evident, they kept their noses

in the air and stared straight ahead. Emmeline had to lift her skirt

to step over Billie's feet, which were sticking out from the filthy

tarp she thought he was using as a cover. She did so without giving

him so much as a fleeting glance. Once they had rounded the corner,

her mother unlatched her grip on her daughter's arm, flung the door